The Damned Demon

In a desolate, forsaken corner of the ruined Bloodburn Kingdom, shadows lingered like mournful ghosts. Shattered buildings and charred ruins stood as grim remnants of a once-thriving civilization, now reduced to mere echoes of misery and pain.

The air was thick with despair, tainted by the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of burnt flesh.

The captured survivors, broken and spiritless, shuffled aimlessly within the Draconian camps. Their hollow eyes gazed blankly ahead, lifeless shells of the vibrant people they had once been.

Women, toyed with and raped mercilessly, moved listlessly, their faces pale and gaunt, bodies scarred from the cruelty inflicted upon them.

Men, once proud warriors, and protectors, now lay tortured and chained, their backs raw from endless whippings and their skin flayed.

Even the children, those who had survived, wore faces far too old for their age—eyes dull, voices forever silenced by trauma too immense for young hearts.

The abandoned ones lay scattered at the edges of the camp, discarded like broken toys, left to die after satisfying the twisted amusement of their tormentors. Weak groans and pitiful sobs barely escaped cracked lips as their strength dwindled, fading into a quiet, hopeless silence.

At the heart of the forsaken place stood Drakar, tall and proud, a dark, chilling figure radiating cold authority. His armor, black as night, gleamed ominously in the dim crimson sunlight, his leathery jet-black wings snapping open in rage.

"You… lost the child?" Drakar's voice was slow, deadly, barely masking the storm underneath.

Commander Zulgi stood at attention, one hand clenched against his armored chest. His face remained composed, but sweat lined his brow. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. It seems Orbos somehow lost the child. They say the child is cursed."

"Cursed?! That snake was given a single task!" Drakar snarled, his voice echoing like a rolling avalanche. "He had one week—one week—and now the Bloodburn whelp has vanished?! How hard could it be to kidnap and transport a puny, little thing?"

Drakar stood, the impact of his scaled foot cracking the ground beneath. His leathery wings trembled with rage, barely reined in.

"He claims she was too strong for them to contain and escaped… that there was some kind of mental backlash while trying to suppress her... It all sounded unbelievable but I felt he was telling the truth and wouldn't dare lie with a blade sinking into his flesh," Zulgi said with furrowed brows.

Drakar's eyes narrowed, the vertical slits burning molten red. "Like his pathetic kind, Orbos is a liar by birth and a coward by nature. He could be playing both sides again."

Zulgi dipped his head, then continued, "There's something else, Your Majesty. A separate incident. Roughly hundred miles west—one of our scout parties reported a blinding green explosion. I sent riders… but when they arrived, they found nothing. No remains. No bodies. Not even ash. Just a crater of melted stone and warped trees."

Drakar's expression froze for a moment.

Zulgi hesitated, then added in a lower voice, "Commander Yurus was stationed nearby. I tried reaching him through the Whisper Stone, but… there was no response."

That did it.

Drakar's hand slammed across the air, shattering a nearby column, "Yurus is no fool. If he was under attack to make him feel threatened, I would have known!"

"I agree, but… something happened out there, Your Majesty," Zulgi said with a grim tone. "Something... unexplainable. There was no trace of enemy movement. No sounds of battle. It was as if the land itself detonated in a split second. But the damage caused seemed to resemble that of the alien. Do you think…"

Drakar fell silent. His thoughts spiraled back—to Luna's cold eyes and her warning.

[I have already seen the pathetic way you die…]

Zulgi carefully added, "..he did this?"

"Enough!" Drakar bellowed, his voice like thunder cracking across the room. "That cursed rat would not dare! Not without making a show of it. He'd wear the blood like a crown if he returned."

"But—"

"If Asher had shown his face," Drakar growled low, "Yurus would have called me first, knowing how badly I want to rip him apart! "

Zulgi wisely said nothing.

Drakar's wings twitched again, but then slowly, forcefully folded back. He paced in a slow circle behind his throne, tail swaying with tension. "Perhaps Orbos simply failed. Or perhaps he's plotting something. Either way, we will find the girl again. And if Yurus is dead… I'll carve the truth from Orbos myself."

Zulgi straightened, "Then what are your orders, my king?"

Drakar's teeth showed in a grim smile.

"Forget the child. Forget Orbos. For now."

He turned, wings unfurling as his deep voice echoed with cruel anticipation.

"The wolves are still licking their wounds behind that mountain spine. We'll strike now. While the moon has yet to rise and their howls still carry grief."

Zulgi nodded. "Shall I mobilize the third and fifth warbands?"

"All of them," Drakar said coldly. "We will make the entire Rhogar territory run black with fur and blood."

"It shouldn't be a problem, Your Majesty. Our men are ready," Zulgi declared with unwavering confidence, his cold eyes glinting beneath his helmet. "Our army has reached its peak strength once again. The werewolves will fall swiftly."

Drakar's sharp gaze swept across his armies, a cold, sinister satisfaction tugging at his lips. Few hundreds of thousands of Draconian warriors stood at attention, their weapons gleaming wickedly, their faces twisted into snarls of anticipation for the bloodshed to come.

"Good," Drakar's deep, gravelly voice echoed like distant thunder. "Too long have those mongrels hidden in their forests, believing themselves safe under the Moon Guardian's protection. It's time we reminded them who truly rules this world."

Zulgi nodded grimly, his voice steady and unfeeling, "The key will soon be yours, Your Majesty."

Drakar's face hardened with cold hunger, eyes gleaming with greed as he momentarily imagined the glorious future before him, "Indeed. Once I possess it, I shall be the eternal ruler of this world hahaha."

His dark laughter echoed eerily, sending shivers through even his hardened soldiers.

With a commanding gesture, Drakar raised his hand high, signaling his massive army to march forward, the ground trembling beneath the weight of thousands of footsteps.

But as they prepared to move, an unsettling shift suddenly gripped the world around them.

An unnatural silence fell across the devastated landscape, like the quiet breath before calamity. The very air itself seemed to grow heavy, pressing down on every soul present. Soldiers halted abruptly, their eyes widening, their breath caught sharply in their throats.

Drakar furrowed his brows, glancing upward, feeling a strange and oppressive force rapidly descending upon them. "What is this...?" he muttered darkly.

The crimson sun itself seemed to dim, its harsh rays dwindling into obscurity as an immense shadow swallowed the entire battlefield. A darkness unlike anything Drakar had ever witnessed blanketed the land, plunging it into an unsettling twilight.

Drakar's heart skipped a beat—a sensation he hadn't felt in centuries—as a deep, earth-shaking growl resonated from above, reverberating through bone and soul alike. The sinister sound was so powerful, so primal, that it sent an involuntary shiver down Drakar's spine.

Every head tilted upward simultaneously, eyes wide and terrified, mouths agape. The clouds themselves parted violently, ripped apart by the arrival of a colossal beast whose sheer presence was enough to suffocate courage from the bravest of warriors.

All of them had their mouths fall agape. It was a legendary dragon of myth and nightmare they never thought they would ever witness in their lives, the direct descendant of the Supreme One…Drogor, the Devourer of Skies!

His titanic form stretched more than three hundred meters, casting the land into an absolute abyss of shadow.

Majestic yet terrifying, Drogor's massive wings unfurled slowly, spanning wide enough to blot out the entire sky. Crimson scales armored his monstrous body, each glinting sharply in the fading sunlight like bloodied blades. His horns curved viciously, adorned with runes of forgotten magic that glowed faintly, pulsating with terrifying power.

Upon the dragon's enormous back sat a figure—a man whose presence was colder and even more intimidating than Drogor's. Long, moon-white hair cascaded behind him, flowing in rhythm with the gusts of wind created by Drogor's steady wingbeats. His dark robes billowed dramatically, and his piercing, dark yellow eyes gazed downward with absolute, merciless contempt.

"Y-You..how…." Drakar whispered hoarsely, his face paling visibly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs. Never before had Drakar felt such a sense of raw, primal fear—something deeply alien to his ruthless, proud nature.

What was this rat doing atop the legendary dragon? Why was Drogor revealing himself now after being depressed for so long? It wasn't making any sense!

Zulgi took a shaky step backward, his normally stoic face filled with dread. Around him, hardened warriors trembled, their knees buckling as the overwhelming, oppressive aura of the dragon and its rider crushed their spirits and resolve.

"ROAARRRRR!!!"

Drogor released a deafening roar, the sheer power behind it shattering nearby stones and shaking the foundations of the earth itself. Flames surged from his maw, lighting up the darkened skies, a spectacle both magnificent and horrific.

Drakar clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening, jaw set firmly despite the fear creeping through his veins. His pride fought against the terror, yet even he understood the monumental threat looming above.

"Asher!" Drakar's voice boomed defiantly, though it wavered subtly beneath his bravado. "Enough of your tricks! You might have fooled the Devourer of Skies but if you still dare to call yourself a man, face me alone rather than hide behind a dragon like a coward! Haven't you hid enough?!"

Asher's expression remained cold, merciless, yet his voice sliced through the chaos with chilling authority, echoing as if from the depths of the abyss itself.

"Face you?" he mumbled calmly, eyes glowing frigidly, "No...I am here to see you crawling at my feet, begging for death like the dog you are."

Drakar felt those words pierce his soul, dread squeezing his chest tighter. A grim silence fell, broken only by Drogor's deep growls that echoed ominously, like the tolling bell of imminent doom.

The massive dragon slowly lowered himself from the bloody skies, his landing shaking the world beneath him, tearing the very land asunder, and sending terrified soldiers scattering in blind panic.

Drakar gritted his teeth in fear and despair upon seeing the morale of his men plummeting like a broken kite.

"Wait! O Devourer of Skies, hear me please! Do not trust this alien rat! Whatever he promised you, I can grant you ten times over! Even eternal life!" Drakar said with his eyes wide, his face strained with desperation.

As Drogor raised his gigantic head, his crimson eyes gleaming fiercely as he looked down at Drakar with brutal contempt, "You dare speak to me, insect? You are a stain in my ancestor's lineage and no eternal life or any devil can stop me from making sure your bloodline ends here."

Drakar's heart thundered erratically, icy fear seeping through every nerve, paralyzing him. The power emanating from Asher and the legendary dragon was unimaginable, utterly eclipsing any strength he had ever faced.

In that moment, Drakar finally understood that this was not going to be a battle. This was going to be his worst nightmare!